


This is Your Heart

by Demenior



Category: Animorphs - Katherine A. Applegate
Genre: Child Death, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-02
Updated: 2014-02-02
Packaged: 2018-01-10 22:11:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1165138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Demenior/pseuds/Demenior
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They made calls in the morning. People—whose number they could find in the phonebook or Tom had given to them—who Tom spent a lot of time with in the Sharing. No one had seen him since Friday.<br/>The roast leftovers were still sitting in the fridge. Untouched.<br/>“We have to call the police,” Jean whispered, her heart hammering in her chest, “something’s wrong.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	This is Your Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Wanted to get this story out while the idea was still fresh in my mind.
> 
> Now, I want everyone aware that this is hella emotionally heavy. Also huge potential to be hugely triggering. I'm listing everything you should be prepared for at the bottom, should you need to go through them. There are spoilers, you have been warned.
> 
> Also this was written in one sitting and is completely unbeta'd, so all mistakes are mine. I hope you enjoy! (or not, I guess)

Jean was just finishing making dinner when Jake came in the front door.

“Hi sweetie,” she smiled at him, “where have you been? I thought you were going to be home earlier?” She hadn’t been too worried—Jake was out late a lot these days. Lord knows how teenagers found a way to fill all their hours and still not have time for their homework.

Jake looked wide-eyed, pale, and afraid for a moment and Jean instantly thought _a girl_.

“I—I was with Marco. We lost track of time,” he said.

Jean hummed in amusement. Jake knew that she knew he was lying, but she was going to let him get away with this one. Well, she’d talk to Steve and see if he couldn’t pry some details out of their son. Or maybe Tom knew something? If it was any girl, it was probably Rachel’s friend Cassie. Jean wasn’t oblivious to the way Jake acted whenever Cassie was around.

“Well you’re just in time,” Jean smiled, “I made a roast! Hope you’re hungry.”

Jake still looked scared of being caught, “Oh,” he grinned, “Marco and I ate already, sorry. I’m not really hungry—can I go to my room?”

“No, you know the rules. We sit down as a family. Now help me set the table.”

                                        

Three of them were sitting around the table—Tom was absent.

“Have you talked to him today?” Jake asked. He was picking at his food. Jean was tempted to berate him for spoiling his appetite and likely filling up on junk food.

“He didn’t mention anything, but he’s probably doing some more volunteer work. You know how he is about that club,” Steve shrugged.

Jean sighed, “Really though, if he’s going to be out late all the time he needs to learn to leave notes or just call us! I worry about him.”

Steve was laughing, and she didn’t have to look to know that Jake was probably rolling his eyes, “Honey, he’s almost an adult. A boy needs some space!”

“He’s my little boy,” Jean said fondly. She’d wanted to give him a quick kiss on the cheek this morning before he left but he was in a hurry to get to school.

“Do I have to stay,” Jake mumbled, “I mean, if we’re not waiting?”

“You’re released,” Steve waved him away, “but wash your dishes.”

Jake nodded quietly and did as he was told.

“You okay, son?” Steve asked. He’d noticed that Jake was looking a little pale as well.

“Just a little tired,” he admitted, “I, uh, didn’t sleep well. That’s all.”

Steve pressed, “Not sick are you?”

Jake shook his head quickly, “No, no. I’m good. Just need to sleep. Goodnight.”

He all but fled upstairs.

“He said he was with Marco all afternoon,” Jean said conversationally, “but I think he was also with a _girl_ today. Maybe Marco wasn’t there at all.”

Steve looked excited by this news, “Well, he’s right about that age. He’ll be trying to sneak around on us and go places when we don’t know.”

Jean stifled a laugh, “I don’t think Jake’s capable of lying—or maintaining one. He’s too honest and transparent.”

“I should hope so,” Steve took another slice of roast, “we raised him to be a good person.”

“Don’t eat too much,” Jean waved him away from the mashed potatoes, “leave some for Tom. He’ll probably be hungry when he gets home.”

“Just because our boys are growing like weeds doesn’t mean _I_ have to starve!” Steve protested.

 

Tom didn’t come home that night—at least he didn’t wake her up when he did. Jean tried to stay up, to hear him come in, but fell asleep knowing that teenaged boys usually got a second wind late at night. She wasn’t sure what kind of volunteering project would run so late, but Tom was so involved and helpful it was likely he wasn’t even thinking about how worried his mother was.

She slept very well that night.

 

Jake was up and out the door unusually early. He still looked sick. Steve was already at work, and so Jean made a note to herself to have him check up on Jake. Probably just a cold, but it was always better to be on the safe side.

She couldn’t find any note saying where Tom would be today. He’d talked about some things he was doing over the weekend—she hardly could keep track of all the things he was involved in. It was like he had _several_ jobs outside of school. Just thinking about it made her tired.

He’d be home for dinner though—or else he’d get a scolding. Jean brewed herself a cup of tea and retreated to her writing room.

 

Tom didn’t show up for dinner and Jake called to say that he was going to be staying at Marco’s. That was usual for the weekend. Steve reminded Jake that he needed to do his chores tomorrow—and then, quieter, asked if Jake had seen his brother at all.

Jake hadn’t.

 “We’ll wait until morning. If there’s nothing—then we’ll start to worry,” Steve told Jean over dinner. Their house had gotten surprisingly quieter since both of their boys started spending all their time out of it. Now it felt foreboding.

 

 

They made calls in the morning. People—whose number they could find in the phonebook or Tom had given to them—who Tom spent a lot of time with in the Sharing. No one had seen him since Friday.

The roast leftovers were still sitting in the fridge. Untouched.

“We have to call the police,” Jean whispered, her heart hammering in her chest, “something’s _wrong_.”

 

 

Jake came home when they called. He looked white with fear for his brother. The police asked about places Tom might be, if he’d seen his brother at all or might know where he would go. Jean wrapped her arms around him as soon as she could and vowed to never let him out of her sight again.

 

 

The house wasn’t just quiet now. It felt _empty_. Steve stayed home from work. They kept Jake out of school. Rachel and Naomi, bringing Sarah and Jordan with them, came by to offer support. Rachel sat with Jake in his room and they went over homework together.

 

 

Tom was doing some volunteer hours for the Sharing out in the mountains. Everyone who had been involved had assumed he’d gotten a ride with someone else. He’d been scouting trails the last time anyone saw him. Steve wondered if Tom had run away. Jean feared someone might have kidnapped her son.

 

 

On Friday, after the worst week of their lives, the police came to them with no fresh evidence. Tom’s trail had gone cold. It was unlikely he was in the city. They were issuing a state-wide alert, passing Tom’s description to every media outlet they possibly could.

That was the first night Jake ran away. He left a note saying he needed to ‘clear his head’. He didn’t come home until noon the next day and Jean grounded him for scaring her so badly. Steve had to patiently convince her that wasn’t the right response—while they were missing a son, Jake was missing his _brother_.

 

 

It was nearly a month later when an officer showed up on Jean’s doorstep. Steve had been forced to return to work, and Jake had gone back to school so that he wouldn’t fall behind. Jean was weathering the loneliness, and at the knock she hoped it was Tom.

“Ma’am I would request we go somewhere you can sit down,” the man said softly.

“Is there any news? _Anything_?” she wanted to grab the man and shake him.

“Is the living room or kitchen good for you?” he said, and as an afterthought, asked, “may I come in?”

“Should I call Steve?” Jean asked.

The man looked grave, “Yes.”

It took nearly an hour for Steve to get home, and the officer refused to give Jean any information. Her hands were already shaking with a truth she didn’t want to acknowledge. Steve held onto her tightly in the living room as the man in uniform told them about a call they’d received from a local hiker. They’d stumbled across a body. The police had identified it as Tom’s.

“We will need you to identify it, though, to confirm.”

“Of course,” Steve said, in complete monotone.

The officer kept his face neutral, though he seemed genuinely sympathetic, “We are still waiting for an official report… but we think it was an animal attack. Maybe a mountain lion. They aren’t local to the region, but this one might have wandered off and they have been known to attack people.”

Jean didn’t remember much else beyond those words.

 

 

Steve and Jean identified Tom’s body. Jean wrote about death sometimes, in a realistic sense, but mostly she wrote about death as a plot device or a way to gain an emotional response from her readers. She never thought about seeing it up close, and seeing the discoloration in her baby boy’s face.

Jake refused to see the body. He stayed curled in on himself in the lobby, and by the time Jean and Steve had come back out Jake had thrown up on himself and was crying in shame.

 

 

In the end—it was a mountain lion. Tom had been mauled while doing a nature walk for the Sharing. They’d been doing some exploring of local trails and Tom had gone off on his own. The coroner theorized, that because the lion hadn’t tried to eat Tom, that he actually startled it or it was just being defensive. Because mountain lions weren’t native to the region it was arguable that it could be a bear attack, but the bite wounds were distinctly feline.

If it was supposed to make them feel better, it didn’t. The animal was never found.

 

 

Tom’s funeral was private. Family and friends. Rachel was tight-lipped and stoic. Jordan and Sarah didn’t seem to know what to make of the event. Jean could barely keep herself from crying. Steve held onto her tightly all afternoon. Jake stared at them in mute horror and moved like someone else was puppeteering his limbs.

Jake didn’t talk for a week. He refused to see a therapist and stopped looking his parents in the eyes.  Their own therapist told them Jake was suffering a loss of trust. Jake was realizing the brother he had idolized was not as invincible as he’d thought. The two of them encouraged Jake to remember all the good times him and Tom had together.

 

 

Jake stayed at Marco’s or at Rachel’s most nights. Or at least he tried to. Jean wanted him beside her so she could hold him and cry into his hair.

Cassie, that girl Jake liked, came by one night with a meal her parents had cooked. She seemed cold with Jake—but it was probably her feeling awkward in the situation. She was a sweet little thing, and hugged both Jean and Steve and asked if she could do anything for them.

 

 

Three months after Tom died, Jean still woke up crying.

 

* * *

 

 [Friday]

“ _Another_ logging thing?” Marco complained, “that is _so_ last season.”

Tobias was busy preening his feathers in the rafters, <Look, I’m just reporting what I saw. And they’re in a new area this time—close to the Hork-Bajir.>

“We can’t let them find them!” Cassie said, louder than she thought. Tobias let out a sound that they assumed meant he agreed.

Ax stomped his hooves in irritation, <It is not in our best interests to let the Yeerks recapture the Hork-Bajir colony. But we cannot afford to waste all of our time and energy defending them.>

Marco shrugged, “I agree with Ax here. Is this something we need to let the Hork-Bajir do for themselves?”

“Yeah cause the Hork-Bajir know how to make plans to fight off the Yeerks. Besides, all it takes is one of them getting caught and then they’ll lose the valley!” Rachel snapped, “besides, we know how to deal with this. Just get Cassie to give Visser Three a good spray again.” She winked at her friend as Cassie flustered under the attention from the others.

“Yeah, but you seem to be forgetting that if one of _us_ gets caught it’s game over for the human race!” Marco retorted.

“This is the first free Hork-Bajir colony _ever_! We _have_ to protect them!” Cassie had her hands balled into fists.

<I’m with Cassie,> Tobias said, <we need to look after them.>

“Jake!” Marco cried, “talk some sense into them!”

“We can take them!” Rachel said, “all we have to do is get them shut down legally. It’s super easy!”

“It didn’t work _last_ time,” Marco muttered, “what makes you think it would work _this_ time?”

“Enough,” Jake said, just loud enough. Marco and Rachel stopped, still scowling at one another.

“We’ll go take a look,” Jake said, “fly in—maybe take a walk around if they have a force field up. Then we’ll decide what we’re going to do. It’s the start of the weekend—I can push my chores to Sunday so we can meet early tomorrow.”

<Jake,> Tobias said quietly, <there’s one more thing. I saw Tom there.>

They all fell silent, waiting for Jake’s reaction.

He stood up and was already sprouting feathers down his body, “The plan doesn’t change. We see what’s going on, and then we get out. Keep it really simple. Understood?”

The way he said it left no room for arguments.

 

* * *

 

 

Nearly three years after Tom died; Jean’s world was thrown into chaos again.

Aliens existed. They were invading earth and slowly enslaving the human race. There was an alien in her head—in her husband’s head.

But not in Jake. Jake was free. Jake was fighting for their freedom. He was part of the resistance. He was the _leader_ of the resistance.

Jake, her baby boy, was the one the Yeerks were afraid of.

It was difficult, as their Yeerks only demanded answers or remained silent. They delved through memories—Jean relived the moment her son died and the moments her son was alive and the moments that Tom was one of _them_ —without mercy as they tried to find information on Jake that they could use to kill him.

Jake and his friends—all of them children—were the ones keeping the Yeerks from taking Earth. They were holding them off, just enough of a bother over the years to become a threat. Rachel, Marco, Cassie and Jake—there were others too, Jean knew—but they were all _children_. They were too young for the stories that the Yeerk in her head told. It described to her of the bloodshed left behind by an Animorph attack. How Jake, the ferocious tiger, boiled Yeerks alive and tore out the throats of his enemies. Many Yeerks had nightmares about hearing his great roar.

If she were not so horrified, Jean would be proud.

 

 

When the war ended, Jean watched the Yeerks lay down their weapons. She was among them. They lined up, defeated, to wait to leave their hosts and return to the pool. They were promised amnesty, but none of them trusted humans.

Jake had dropped seventeen thousand Yeerks to their death—as a _distraction_.

 

 

Steve had been freed, and was standing amongst the shell-shocked group of free humans, and caught sight of Jean further back in line. Many of the people around him could barely move their own bodies, so long had they been under control. He was doing what he could to help. He could barely take his eyes off of his own wife. The military weren’t letting them mingle, until the host was free. Jean didn’t look anything like herself. Many of the Yeerks in the line were openly weeping.

They were afraid Steve’s son was going to kill them.

There was a shout from above and Steve shielded his eyes to see a Yeerk ship—a _spaceship_ \- landing just off of the pool ship. His heart skipped a beat as he realized what this probably meant.

Jake was the first to walk off of the ship, followed by the rest of the Animorphs. They’d flown all the way to the White House to break the news of the beginning and end of the earth’s first alien invasion. Steve could hardly recognize his own son.

Many of the Yeerks in the line shrank back. Some whimpered, and more spit at Jake. He didn’t seem to notice them. He scanned the lines, looking for someone. Marco nudged him and nodded towards Steve in the group of free humans. Cassie spotted Jean.

 

 

The Yeerk in Jean’s head was defeated. It felt rage and hopelessness, and a sense of injustice. At the sight of Jake walking towards them, the Yeerk was _afraid_. Jean savored the feeling, relished in it.

<You’re afraid too,> it hissed. She fell silent.

The Yeerk twisted Jean’s face into a look of disgust—trying to mar the caring image of Jake’s mother in his own mind while it still could—and Jean, as hopeless as she knew it was, tried to fight back.

“Come to murder more of my people!” Jean heard her voice say, “genocide our people! Murderer!”

The fury on Jake’s face frightened Jean.

“Get to the front of the line,” Jake snarled, “and get out of my mother.”

“She’s afraid of you,” the Yeerk laughed, still using Jean’s voice, “afraid of all you’re capable of and afraid of the monster you are! Your parents hate you!”

Jake’s skin went orange and black, his eyes became not-human and his fangs grew so long they jutted over his teeth. His voice was gravelly and loud, on the verge of a roar as he shouted, “Move!”

The Yeerk was shaking, and tried to walk calmly towards the pier. Jean could have shouted for joy at how close her freedom was.

The tiger that escorted them up to the front of the line was huge. Everyone, even the human military, gave them a wide berth. The Yeerk kept whispering to Jean about how easy it would be for him to rip their throat out. All Jean could think about were how big those fangs looked—and that this animal couldn’t be her son.

 

 

Though Tom’s death wasn’t technically in the line of fire as a victim of the Yeerks, his brother was Jake Berenson and Tom was a Controller at the time of his death. Tom’s name was memorialized along with hundreds, if not thousands, of others who lost their lives.

Jean still didn’t know the extent, but she was aware that her other son was close to just being a name several times. And she’d had no idea.

 

 

Jake bought them a new home. Their old one had been destroyed by the Yeerks. They had nothing left of Tom’s. Nothing to remember him by. Jake continued receiving gift after gift and they stopped having enough rooms to put things in. Jake hardly left his room except for when duty called.

Jean wanted to hold her baby boy in her arms and stroke his hair and comfort him. She wished she knew where her baby boy was. The man who could become a tiger, the man whose name was a curse in other languages, the man who killed hundreds for a strategic advantage—that man was not her son.

Jean thought death was the only thing that could take her boys from her. She felt closer to Tom now than she did to the boy sleeping upstairs.

 

 

Someone had tried to kill Steve—because of his connection to Jake. Jake was on edge and pacing the kitchen. Jean was washing dishes for a sense of calm. They had a dishwasher, but she wanted something to do with her hands so she didn’t have to stare at her son and picture a wild animal. Steve was resting on the couch in the other room, arm in a sling and bruises marring his face. It was the first time they’d been together, willingly, in months.

“I’ll find them and I’ll kill them,” Jake snarled.

“I think this is something to leave to the proper authorities,” Jean said softly.

Jake stopped to grip the back of a chair, “I _am_ the proper authority! People are coming after my family and you want me to stand by, Mom?”

Jake had dark stripes, faint enough to look like bruises, covering his skin. He’d explained before, when they’d tried family therapy, that his tiger morph made him feel more in control and helped him think better. He only did it in front of people he could trust though—who he felt safe showing that he was _out_ of control.

Jean saw a wild animal, not control. Wild animals had taken too much from her.

“Yes,” she said sharply.

Jake threw up his arms in frustration, “I don’t understand! Someone attacked us and you want me to do _nothing_?”

“Not nothing!” she threw down the wet cloth for the satisfying way it splashed water everywhere, “of _course_ I am afraid someone is after us—after _you_! I don’t want to see my family hurt. Which is why you need to let someone else take care of this because I will _not_ survive losing another child!”

Jake’s lips drew back, showing the start of his fangs and Jean imagined he would likely be growling at her if he could. They were both thinking of the fact that their family settings, when rarely used, now only included three.

“I don’t want to lose anyone either,” Jake said quietly, looking suddenly pale. The stripes came in darker, and his orange fur sprouted as his hair shortened. Jean didn’t think she could be in the same room as a big cat while she was still thinking about Tom.

Jean dropped the plate she had been holding in her other hand. It shattered on the floor.

Jake looked startled out of his morph and made an effort to move closer to human. Steve was woken up and ambled into the kitchen.

“Jean?” Steve asked, hesitant in approaching her, “are you okay?” he leaned heavily on the doorframe to support himself.

She was staring at the long canines distorting Jake’s mouth.

“Jake,” her voice was shaking, “when Tom… he was doing work for the Yeerks?”

Jake looked confused at her question, but the stripes on his skin darkened again, and the human parts were white, “Yeah… they were searching for the free Hork-Bajir. That’s all we know.”

“Is it?” Jean pressed. They’d never been able to talk about Tom—except that Jake had _known_ his brother was a slave and didn’t help him. If he’d saved Tom then maybe Tom wouldn’t be dead.

Jake nodded quickly, looking anywhere but at his mother.

Jean was shaking so badly she didn’t know if she could keep standing. She struggled her way to the table—three chairs—and sank down. Steve came to sit beside her while Jake remained standing. His hands—fingers slightly fused and clawed at the end—were shaking as well.

“Jake…” Jean whispered softly, and there were tears in her eyes now that she couldn’t hold back, “was it a mountain lion?”

The stripes on Jake’s skin grew and shrank as he struggled to make himself human. He was pale and shaking—the way he got every time they mentioned Tom’s death. Steve’s hand froze in its spot on Jean’s back.

Jake looked at them with amber eyes and while his eyes were wet he couldn’t cry because tigers couldn’t cry, “No. It wasn’t.”

 

* * *

 

 [Friday]

<Let’s just check it out!> Marco shouted, <that sounds like a great idea! We’ll go do a little investigation and come up with a decent plan! Since _when_ does that ever work for us? >

<Shut up and _move_! > Rachel bellowed. She knocked him into a roll with her outstretched wing and Marco narrowly avoided a dracon beam.

<Get up high! They can’t hit if we’re too far up!> Cassie cried.

Tobias sounded frustrated—though likely at himself, <There’s no thermals! We won’t make it!>

<Into the trees!> Jake ordered, <spread out!>

<We have thirty of your minutes left,> Ax informed them.

Jake groaned out loud, angling his wings to swerve. He was tired—falcons weren’t made for this kind of long-distance spurt, <Okay! Everyone split up and get away as fast as you can. They’ll be expecting us to stay in the air so morph wolf once you get a chance. And remember: we only have thirt—AHHH!>

<Jake!> Cassie screamed as he fell.

It was impossible to fly with one wing.

<I’m coming!> Rachel shouted. Both she and Tobias angled to turn into a dive.

<No!> Jake shouted, <you get away! Keep going!>

He was spinning madly out of control.

<Jake! Let the falcon fly! He knows what he’s doing,> Tobias said, <he’ll get you down safely!>

The trees were rushing up at Jake and he didn’t have enough time to reply. He let the falcons instincts kick in—realigning feathers and spreading his wing and his stump as best he could to slow his descent. Jake was able to angle out of the way of the first tree, but hit the next one too hard. He heard a sound like a branch snapping, and felt an explosion of pain in his chest from where his ribs must have been broken. He fell all the way to the ground.

 _Morph, morph, morph_ , he commanded to himself. He didn’t have much time before the Yeerks found him or before he ran out of time. Jake had a sinking suspicion that the damage to his falcon body was likely fatal.

His legs shot out of the tiny bird body, and with relief Jake watched his arm grow back. It grew out as bone, followed quickly by veins and fat and muscle before being sealed off with skin. An anatomy lesson he knew he _never_ wanted to see again. He could breathe again, and gasped in delicious air, as his ribs healed and expanded.

Jake was wiped. Morphing took a lot out of him, and he braced himself for another one.

A twig snapped to his left.

Jake whirled around—the last of the feathers melting into his skin—and his eyes widened in horror.

Tom was staring at him.

They were frozen like that, staring at one another. The reality of what they were both seeing was settling in. There was no mistaking what he’d just seen. One of the Andalite Bandits was his very own brother.

This was the end of all of them.

Tom turned to run and Jake’s stomach dropped. Tom didn’t have a way of communicating and the Controller who’d shot Jake was too far away for him to reach in time. Tom needed to make it back to the camp before Jake stopped him.

Jake went cold.

He had to stop Tom.

Jake was already running. His heart was hammering in his chest. He had to stop Tom _now_ or else it was all over. The war, their lives, the human race. It was all over.

Jake’s vision was blurring with tears.

 _It’s not fair_ he wanted to scream.

Tigers are much faster than humans. Jake didn’t have any trouble catching his brother.

**Author's Note:**

> POTENTIAL TRIGGERS (Spoilers included)  
> -death of a child  
> -minor going missing  
> -familicide  
> -mentions of potential abductions
> 
> Basically Tom stumbles across Jake morphing and realizes Jake is one of the Andalite Bandits. In a split-second decision, Jake kills Tom, making it look like a wild animal attack. The story starts the day of the murder, from Jake's parents' pov and follows how they become aware something is wrong right up to being informed their son is dead. From there the story continues to vaguely follow canon, where Jean and Steve are infested until Jake frees them. At the end they put the clues together and realize that Jake is the one who killed Tom.


End file.
